


Duck Amok

by WeWillSpockYou



Category: McKirk - Fandom, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: English Major Jim, Fluff and Angst, Geeky Jim, Granola Bars, M/M, Poetry, Professor McCoy, Student/Teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:58:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1616867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeWillSpockYou/pseuds/WeWillSpockYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk is an English Major at the University of Massachusetts, Leo McCoy is his Poetry Professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duck Amok

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. Jim slapped his hand out at his alarm clock. It was his first day of classes at UMASS and Jim was excited to finally be getting started. He was a first semester freshman at the ripe old age of twenty-six, having spent his years since high school attending the school of hard knocks. He had bounced from mechanical job to mechanical job until a nasty hernia forced him to take stock of his life and where it was headed. Jim finally got his head out of his ass and enrolled as an English major as he had wanted to do all of those years ago. Better late than never, he thought.

The first class on his schedule was the one he had been dreaming about taking for years: Poets of the Romantic Age. Jim jumped out of bed and headed for the shower.

 

Jim took a deep breath when he entered the lecture hall. He was still stunned that he was here and standing on the threshold of making his dreams come true.  He was about to step into the lecture hall when he felt something slam into him from behind.

“Outta the way, old man.”  A long haired teenager muttered, “Take a picture, it lasts longer.” The kid huffed as he walked away.

“Excuse me.” Jim mumbled after him. He walked into the lecture hall and found a seat in the middle of the room.

The lecture hall was graduated and the seats were set in a semi-circle around the lectern. Jim pulled out a notebook and his pen, writing the date on the top of the first page. He took a moment to look at the other students in the room. He was obviously the oldest student by far, he’d expected that in a classroom full of freshman. What he hadn’t expected was to feel so out of touch with these young people. He had considered himself “with it,” hip even, but he had absolutely nothing in common with these kids. Jim could only hope the subject material would help bridge the age gap.

At the stroke of 9am, a tall man with dark hair stepped into the lecture hall from a side door. Jim figured they were about the same height. The man, who Jim assumed was the professor was wearing dark dress pants and a polo shirt. He was also wearing a blazer with leather patches on the elbows. Jim smiled to himself at seeing a stereotypical English professor. About the only thing this man was missing that would have completed the effect was the messy mop of grey hair. Instead, this man had short, dark brown hair. Jim was too far away to tell what color his eyes were. What he was close enough to see was that this guy, leather patched elbows or not, had a killer body.

The man looked around the room at all of his students, took a deep breath and began to speak.

**_The third night, when my own loud scream_ **

**_Had waked me from the fiendish dream,_ **

**_O'ercome with sufferings strange and wild,_ **

**_I wept as I had been a child;_ **

Jim felt his heart slam in his chest. The man whom he had assumed was the professor had a sweet, slow southern accent.  Jim’s dick jumped in his pants from the combined force of the beauty of this man’s voice coupled with him reading Jim’s favorite Coleridge poem. Jim took a deep breath and stood up. He began reciting along with the professor.

  ** _And having thus by tears subdued_**

**_My anguish to a milder mood,_ **

**_Such punishments, I said, were due_ **

**_To natures deepliest stained with sin,—_ **

**_For aye entempesting anew_ **

**_The unfathomable hell within,_ **

**_The horror of their deeds to view,_ **

**_To know and loathe, yet wish and do!_ **

Who was this guy, Leo thought? He was struck by the passion and obvious love his student had for the poem he was reciting. Leo stopped speaking and let his over-enthusiastic student finish the poem.

**_Such griefs with such men well agree,_ **

**_But wherefore, wherefore fall on me?_ **

**_To be loved is all I need,_ **

**_And whom I love, I love indeed._ **

When Jim was finished, the class gave a half-hearted smattering of applause. Jim moved to take his seat when the man spoke to him.

“I’m Professor McCoy.” He nodded toward Jim. “Who might you be?”

“James Tiberius Kirk, Sir.

“Well, Mr. Kirk, would you care to tell me why you saw fit to join me in reciting _Pains Of Sleep_?”

Jim swallowed hard. This was going badly. He had wanted to speak the poem aloud because it had always spoken to him, helped to get him through some dark times. Plus maybe, just maybe he was hoping to impress his gorgeous professor.  “Well Sir, the last stanza of the poem is about overcoming a difficult time and needing love to do it. We’ve all been there, right?” Jim looked hopefully around at his classmates and none were looking back at him. He turned back to look at Professor McCoy.

“Well said, Mr. Kirk, thank you.” Leo smiled at the young man. Maybe this class of freshman rejects wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 

The first week of classes flew by and Jim loved every second of his time on campus.  As an older student, he qualified for a single room in the “study dorm.” So called because it housed the serious students who were there to learn and not major in binge drinking 101. He was on his way to the library to work on a paper Professor McCoy had assigned on how the politics of the day shaped the writings of the Romantic Poets.  Aside from loving all things literature, Jim was also a big history buff and he planned to knock this paper out of the park.

When Jim got to the historical section of the library, there was only one open seat. It was at a table piled high with books, but thankfully there was enough room for him to squeeze in.

“Go ‘way kid.” A gruff, southern voice said from behind the mountain of books.

“Oh.” Jim said, “I’m sorry, sir. This is the only seat available…”

Leo would have known that voice anywhere. He stood up to see James Tiberius Kirk, worrying his bottom lip with his perfect, white teeth.

“Sorry I barked at you, Jim, right?” Leo knew damn well what the kid’s name was. He’d been hearing that voice and seeing those glittering blue eyes in his dreams, wet and day, since the first day of classes.

“Yeah, Jim Kirk, Professor McCoy.” Jim ran a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair. He felt his cock stir in his pants. McCoy was wearing an old pair of jeans and green polo that made his eyes burn brighter green than usual. Jim knew about the color of his eyes as he had taken to sitting in the front row of the lecture hall. “I’ll just find another seat, see you Monday morning for class.”

“What’re you here to work on?” Leo didn’t want Jim to leave, but didn’t know how to ask him to stay either.

“Your paper, actually. I’m pretty excited to get started on it.”

“Have a seat kid, I’ll see if I can move some of these books out of your way.”

“Kid?” Jim laughed. “Don’t think you’re much older than I am Professor McCoy.

Jim was giving him a charming smile, well at least Leo thought it was charming. He also knew damn well how old Jim was, having looked up his records after the Coleridge recitation. His school record was pretty light and obviously did nothing to capture the essence and beauty of the man standing across from him.

“How old are you kid-Jim?” He corrected. Leo asked to hear the sound of his voice again, but also so Jim wouldn’t know he’d been perving on his records.

“Twenty-six, Sir.”

“You can knock of the ‘Sirs’ and ‘Professor McCoys,’ name’s Leo. You can use that here, outside of class.”

Jim nodded and tested the name out inside his head. He had known his name was Leonard, which to him also fit right in with the stereotypical English professor. “Leo” made him sound like he was just one of the guys, approachable, Jim guessed.

“Got a late start, did ya?” Leo didn’t run into many twenty-six year old freshman.

“I’m here now and that’s what counts.” Jim smiled and opened his notebook.

 

Five hours later, Jim’s back was screaming from the hard chair and his hand was cramped from all the notes he had taken. He was also starving. He rummaged around in his bag for something to eat and came out with a box of granola bars. “Granola bar?” Jim offered the box to Leo.

Leo scowled at the interruption until he saw the blue-eyed menace was offering him food. Leo had been having a hard enough time concentrating with Jim so close. He could smell Jim’s spicy aftershave and that combined with his sexy blue eyes was driving him crazy.

“Thanks, Jim.” Leo said as he grabbed a bar.

“What’re you working on?” Jim mumbled around a mouthful of granola.

“My PhD.”

“Oh? What’s your thesis?”

Was he really sitting here with a student about to discuss the topic of his PhD?  “It’s about the influence Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley had on the writings of Percy Shelley.” Leo cringed waiting to see the look of disinterest in Jim’s eyes.

Jim’s eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “I love Mary Shelley. If you ask me, she was the brains in that marriage. She was the better writer of the two and his work was shit up until the time he started having an affair with Mary. I would love to read your work, Leo!”

Leo was stunned, not only was Jim not put to sleep by the thought of the topic, he was asking to read it. No one ever asked to read Leo’s work, not even his colleagues in the English department.

Jim could see the uncertain look on Leo’s face. “Uh, sorry, I got carried away. That happens when I talk about literature. Didn’t mean to be too forward in asking to read your work.”

“No Jim. It’s not that, it’s just that no one has ever asked to read my work before.”

“Well now someone has.” Jim smiled and went back to writing his paper, leaving Leo to ponder the mystery that was James Tiberius Kirk.

 

Jim’s paper was a thing of beauty. It had taken far longer than Jim expected for it all to come together, as Jim had been unable to get Leo off his mind. They had spent another few hours together in the library until the need for real food had driven Jim to pack up his things. He had hoped Leo would ask to join him for dinner, but Jim knew there was a line between students and professors that couldn’t be crossed, not that it didn’t happen every day, Jim thought, it just didn’t happen to him.

He tingled with anticipation when he turned his paper in, however, Leo didn’t even make eye contact with him as he passed by his desk, setting his work down on the pile.

“Today we’re gonna talk about the women of the Romantic Age.” Leo began. He had been aware of Jim since the moment he had stepped into the lecture hall. It took all the willpower he had not to light up when he saw Jim taking his usual seat in the front row and more willpower still to not meet his dangerously beautiful eyes when Jim handed in his paper.

It had been a long rest of the weekend for Leo. He had never wanted anything more in his life than to ask Jim to have dinner with him on Saturday. He could see so clearly in his mind the two of them enjoying lobster and a beer or two together on some open patio deck. Leo imagined the way Jim would look by flickering candlelight as the evening breeze ruffled through the sunshine in his hair. He had seen something odd in Jim’s eyes when Leo failed to ask to join Jim for dinner. His first instinct was that Jim was disappointed, but Leo had become more sure as the weekend had progressed, in a manner that could best be described as glacial, that he must have misread the emotion on Jim’s face.  Now here they were, back in the same room together, well for the next hour at least and Leo couldn’t even look at him.

Jim’s heart was a little broken by the time the lecture was winding down. He had been so excited to see Leo this morning and the man had barely looked his way. He had even ignored Jim’s raised hand when he had asked for people to participate in the classes’ discussion. Once that happened, Jim kept his hand down and his head in his notebook.

“Okay, everyone, that’s it for today. Don’t forget your Byron papers are due next Monday. See ya Wednesday, everyone.” Leo cleared his throat. “Mr. Kirk, a word, please.”

Jim stayed in his seat. He had a really bad feeling about this. He had been so dammed excited to take this class and he knew what was going to happen now. Leo, Professor McCoy, rather was going to ask him to withdraw from this class. He was heartbroken. Jim watched with shuttered eyes as Leo packed up his notes and clicked his briefcase shut.

Leo’s heart was pounding in his chest. He felt awful for the way he had treated Jim during class today. He could see the animated look on Jim’s face when the class had been discussing the work of little known poet Letitia Elizabeth Landon. It had surprised him, although it shouldn’t have, that Jim was a fan of her work.  Jim looked crushed when Leo had failed to call on him to join in the discussion and had kept his head down, taking rapid notes for the rest of the class time. “So, Letitia Elizabeth Landon.” Leo started, lamely.

“Did you ask me to stay late so that we could discuss _Lines of Life_? I think that ship’s sailed.” Jim muttered as he jammed his notebook into his bag.

“Jim, I-” Leo began.

“We sat and worked together for a few hours on a Saturday. It’s no big deal, but for you to completely ignore me in class today was wrong, just plain wrong. I love this class dearly, but if you don’t think I should be in it anymore because I shared my granola bars with you, then tell me now so I can withdraw, but don’t treat me like I don’t exist, Professor McCoy.”

Jim was right, he was being a complete dick. He wanted to reach out and put a reassuring hand on Jim’s shoulder, but kept his hands to himself. He cleared his throat again and stuffed his hands in pockets. “You’re right Jim. I’m sorry for the way I acted. I, uhhmm, don’t make it a habit of talking to students outside the classroom and wasn’t sure how I should handle this situation. Obviously, I handled it badly and for that I am sorry.”

“Apology accepted, but I gotta run to my next class, bye Professor McCoy.”

Leo nodded as Jim walked away. He be lying if he said his heart wasn’t a little broken.

 

Jim managed to trudge through the rest of the week. Wednesday’s Poets class was back to normal with Jim being called upon to recite in class and to join in the discussion. His heart still pinched a bit when he thought about the disappointed look on Leo’s face when Jim had called him “professor.” Well if Leo didn’t know how to act in this situation, Jim sure as hell didn’t either. He needed to push all of this out of his mind. He was here to study and get his degree, not fall head over heels in love with one of his professors and besides, who knew if Leo was even into guys anyway? Massachusetts was one of the bluest states on the map, but this was a public University and not every parent with a child enrolled here celebrated diversity. Hell, even Jim had kept his own rainbow flag hidden. Until he’d met Leo, there wasn’t anyone he would have felt comfortable telling about himself.  Jim sighed and took his seat in class.

Leo came in a few moments later and started class by handing back their Poets and Politics paper from Monday. This was the paper Jim had been working on with Leo, Professor McCoy, rather on Saturday in the library. Leo offered Jim a small smile when he placed Jim’s paper on his desk and Jim returned it with a full smile of his own. Leo marveled at how truly beautiful this boy was, his cock twitched in appreciation too, not wanting to be left out of the discussion. His fingers itched to reach out and touch Jim.

Jim waited until Professor McCoy had walked past before flipping through his paper for the grade. What Professor McCoy had written on the bottom of his paper could not have come as more of a surprise. “See me after class,” was hastily scrawled at the bottom of his paper. There was no letter grade, no comments about the content, hell there weren’t even any red correction marks anywhere on the paper. Whiskey.Tango.Foxtrot.

It was an agonizing hour for Jim. On the one hand, the class was discussing Percey Shelley this week and he was one of Jim’s favorite Romantic poets, second only to Samuel Taylor Coleridge.  On the other hand, Jim couldn’t help but panic about his paper. Fuck. He’d worked so hard on that paper, what was going on?

“That’s it for this week everyone, enjoy your weekend.” Leo wrapped up class fifteen minutes early. He couldn’t stand the wait anymore either. The hardest thing he’d done in a long time was to sit and watch Jim struggle through class. He could only hope what was to come would make up for Jim’s forty-five minutes of misery.

“You wanted to see me, Professor McCoy.” Jim’s voice was cold and his eyes were trained on the wall over Leo’s left shoulder.

“Jim I wanted to talk about your paper. I’ve never read anything more in-depth or spot on in my life and that includes all of the papers I’ve written over my academic career. This paper was flawless.”

Jim’s eyes snapped to lock on with McCoy’s. He needed to see if the sincerity in the other man’s voice was mirrored in his green eyes. It was and then some. “Flawless?” Jim breathed.

“Flawless. Just like you, Jim.” Leo leaned forward and planted his lips on Jim’s. Go big or go home, Leo thought.

Jim gasped when Leo’s lips made contact with his own. He moaned softly and wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist as Leo brought his hands up to cup Jim’s face. Jim pulled him closer and both men’s breath caught in their throat as their erect cocks brushed against each other. Leo slowly walked his right hand down Jim’s arm and he started palming Jim through his too tight jeans. Jim moved his hand down to return the-

 

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. “Dammit.” Jim muttered as he reached over to shut of the wailing alarm clock. “Just gettin’ to the good stuff.”  He re-read the last few paragraphs he had written for typos and usage errors and clicked “Save.” He’d gotten into the habit of setting his alarm while he was writing after he had been late for class a couple of times as he had been hip-deep in a story and unable to stop until it was all down on “paper.”

Jim wondered if Professor McCoy would be wearing that green shirt that made his eyes glow emerald. Jim sighed thinking about the color of his eyes. He also wondered if today was the day he would be handing back the Poets and Politics paper Jim had handed in last week. Only one way to find out, Jim thought. He grabbed his messenger bag full of books and left his dorm room hoping today would be the day when truth was better than fiction.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story and the idea itself comes from the Looney Tunes cartoon of the same name. In this cartoon, Daffy Duck is being driven crazy by the artist drawing him. What is remarkable about this cartoon is that Daffy breaks the fourth wall to speak to his own animator. At the very end of the cartoon, the “camera” pans backward so that we can see it’s Bugs Bunny animating him. I don’t honestly know where this idea came from as it’s another one of those 330am plot bunnies Jim Kirk is famous for giving me! 
> 
> I was so taken by the idea of Jim Kirk writing fan fiction, after all, we write him, why can’t Jim write himself??
> 
> A lot of what you read here comes from Chris Pine and from me. We all know Chris was an English major in college, I was as well. Coleridge is my favorite Romantic poet with Shelley running a close second. Although my personal headcannon for Chris is that he’s probably more of a Lord Byron man.
> 
> Another thing that comes straight from my own life is leaving the alarm set in the morning. If I wake up before the alarm in the morning, I leave the alarm clock turned on so that I’ll know when to stop writing. True story!
> 
> The poem Jim and Leo recite is called, Pains of Sleep by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Unfortunately, Coleridge was an infamous opium fiend and this poem is about his withdrawal from the drug. I love the last lines of this poem and wanted Jim to be speaking words of love to Leo. It’s just the way I roll.
> 
> Here’s to the day when truth is better than (fan)fiction!


End file.
